


love, and how to kick it

by CinderScoria



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Manny doesn't deserve this, Matt is a good boy, Nikita is really confused, Soulmate AU, because I like pain okay, but the kind where you feel the pain of your soulmate when they die, it's platonic I s w e a r everything I write is platonic unless EXPLICITLY stated otherwise, scenes follow events of the show but are tweaked just a bit 'cause, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: (Trick question. You can't.)Nikita used to believe she'd been born without a soulmate. She used to think she was okay with that.She's wrong on both counts.





	love, and how to kick it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canufeelthemagictonight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canufeelthemagictonight/gifts), [Willowcat88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowcat88/gifts), [Bird_Of_Scarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bird_Of_Scarlet/gifts).



> So a while back Leah mentioned the idea of a soulmate au where you feel the pain of your soulmate's death and I took that and RAN with it, and I don't regret a goddamn thing, but I should say before we jump into this that I'm gifting this to Leah, Willow, and Birdy because y'all never gave up on me or let me give up on myself these few weeks I've been wading through all the crap Real Life brings. I'm sorry I've been distant, and I'm so grateful for all yall's friendship, and I'm learning that love just Is and it doesn't have to be earned or compensated, and that's what "unconditional" means.
> 
> I love you guys. I hope you like it. I tried a very rambly kind of style and I'm not sure if I hate it lmao

There are some days Nikita doubts she even has a soulmate.

Manny loves the idea of it, teases her sometimes that maybe they belong to each other, even if it isn’t  _ that way, _ but Nikita never saw the point in contemplating. You won’t know until it’s way too late to do anything about it. It’s a stupid lottery and nobody wins and so Nikita’s never worried about it. Even if sometimes she does.

‘Cause maybe she’s unlovable, and that’s why there isn’t any sort of indication. Or maybe she just has a hard time loving. Either seems accurate, she thinks to herself as she watches Manny slam Matthew Patrick’s hand to the table. Manny’s safe, and so she won’t have to find out if maybe he’s her One (because “Platonic soulmates exist, Nikita,” and a glossy pout to go with it). She does rush to his side as he grabs the artifact, because she knows more than anyone else here what it took for her best friend to beat Matt in the arm wrestling match. How he lit right up when he first laid on eyes on him, how Matt had shook his hand after the first, harmless wrestling match and Manny had practically  _ glowed, _ she’s heard about this crush of his from the moment the two of them had met and so if Matt is Manny’s then this is going to be rough and they both know it. 

Manny clings to her hand as they run to the lounge, and had he been wearing mascara it’d probably be running, the tears flow unbidden and Nikita wants to drop everything and march back outside to kick Matt’s ass for making Manny cry. People are screaming—Rosanna, mostly, the pint-sized Jetsetter wailing as Safiya bodily heaves her up and  _ runs _ with her, trying to keep her from watching, and just like that Nikita and Manny are through the doorway and the last thing she sees of Matthew Patrick are his knee-high white socks as they fly through the air, his last words ringing in her ears no matter how she tries to block it out.

Because there’s been a lot of death tonight, but none of them have felt the pain of a predetermined bond being severed yet, and Nikita has this awful feeling that that’s about to change if Ro’s keening is anything to go by. More than that she wonders how she  _ knows, _ because Nikita certainly doesn’t and has never felt certain of that sort of thing in her entire life—

And then her knees buckle, and she’s stumbling into Manny, who shouts a shout of confusion and fear, both of which she’d share if she could think past the blinding pain of what feels like her cheekbone crunching beneath the pressure of a thousand tank engines. It’s absolute in its entirety and her vision blinks out, color to darkness in point two seconds flat. Her knees crash to the carpet in the lounge, skidding and burning, and she’s probably screaming but she can’t really hear herself, just feels the unnatural roughness of screaming her throat raw, and she’d be crying if she could figure out how, but it’s a second blow and then a third and then Nikita knows nothing else.

-

The problem is Nikita  _ knows. _ She knows immediately upon waking. Her head still throbs something awful but when her eyes open they fill with tears because  _ lord, _ she’d known the soulmate thing was unfair but she’d had no idea, none whatsoever, no warning and no incentive to buddy up to him before he died and now it’s far, far too late.

Manny helps her sit up. They’re back in the lounge, all of them, in varying states of exhaustion. She doesn’t bother to wipe her tears—they’d continue even if she scrubbed them away so there’s no point until she can get a fuckin’ grip here—but she does take Manny’s face in both of her hands and presses her forehead to his.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, weak and in front of everyone no less, but no less sorry. “I’m so, so sorry, baby—”

Manny shushes her, and holds her, and understands all that she’s apologizing for without her having to say it.  _ I’m sorry he wasn’t yours, I’m sorry he was mine, I’m sorry he died, I’m sorry I don’t know how to cope right now, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry— _

“So it’s true,” comes a voice from across the room, and Nikita yanks her gaze from Manny to land on Rosanna’s tear-stained face, tucked almost entirely behind the arms Safiya has wrapped around her. Her brown eyes are the flint to spark a flame and Nikita doesn’t think she’s ever seen Ro not soft. “He's your One.”

Nikita nods, not knowing how to justify this. Ro sucks in a breath and holds it, vibrating in Safiya’s grasp, and the Reporter’s dark eyes survey Nikita in a new light.

Maybe that’s what she hates most about this, she thinks miserably as she dries her own tears—because this changes everything, doesn’t it? This proves that she’s capable of giving love, of being loved, that she isn’t a freak of nature like she thought she was, and she isn’t as hard and angry as  _ they _ thought she was, and everything is all kinds of wrecked by one man’s death, a man she barely even knew.

Colleen in particular looks rattled. Nikita can’t possibly fathom why.

-

The biggest indicator that she’s changed is Nikita takes one look at the harp held in Joey’s slime-covered hand and knows immediately who she wants back.

Is Matt clever and kind-hearted and a strong leader? Absolutely, and they need that if they’re going to survive, but also an ugly, coiled rage is bubbling in her gut, a selfishness that snarls  _ “Mine” _ whenever she thinks about having him back. She feels their eyes looking at her, and ignores them as best she can as she sits on the couch, shoulders hunched, rubbing at her arms like she’s cold when in actuality she’s losing her entire mind at the thought of being the only one in existence to feel her soulmate die and then be able to hold him again in her arms, alive and whole and fine. And oh she wants it, she wants it in a way that’s dangerous, because she  _ knows _ herself and she knows, too, that she’d do  _ anything _ to make it so.

She doesn’t think to make a plan, though, so when he appears again in a flash of golden light, dressed as a Detective with his  _ stupid _ tie and his  _ stupid _ checkered pants and his  _ stupid _ aviators, all she can do is stop and stare. Because everything is different now that she knows. And the others know too, so even though Matt heads straight for Ro and she clings back just as hard, even though Manny inhales deeply when Matt launches himself into his arms, even though Safiya lingers a second longer than she should’ve and Joey is staring at him like he’s seeing color for the first time in his life—when Matt reaches for her Nikita  _ melts, _ right into his embrace, clutching too hard and breathing too fast.

And she’d be a fool to hope that Matt doesn’t notice, because he pulls away and frowns at her, looking her up and down like he’s trying to find what’s wrong, or what’s different. And ultimately he finds nothing, or else Ro has commandeered his attention again, and Joey too (because Matt, of course, is the only other person in existence who’s died and come back, that must mean something special for Joey, too), so Nikita takes a step back and is folded back into Manny’s arms. She looks up at him, her best friend, and still feels that fondness, coupled with the sickness in her stomach that comes with knowing that nothing is the same.

If the tightening of his hands on her arms is any indication, Manny knows it, too.

-

“All right, what’s going on with you?”

Nikita stills from where she’s attempting to pick the padlock with her acrylics. (No, not realistically, but it gives her an excuse not to look at Matt, and besides, Nikita’s  _ never _ been a damsel in need of rescue, she certainly isn’t planning on starting now.)

Panic doesn’t come naturally to her, and she’s the Troublemaker, she’s not supposed to be scared of anything, but the thrill of terror that came with Willie marching her to this tiny little cage and Matt waiting there with a scowl genuinely had her scrambling to run in the opposite direction. Willie’s a lot stronger than she is, physically (she can fight that bitch in her sleep, please, but his grip on her arm was bruising and she’s too tired, lately, to fight just for the sake of fighting), so she ended up in here anyway, and if Matt’s noticed her odd behavior revolving around him—well, apparently, he has.

His eyes can be brown or blue or green behind those yellow-tinted sunglasses of his. She finds herself wondering what color it is. “Nothing’s going on with me.” The lie comes easily but tastes like cotton on her tongue. Maybe  _ because _ it came so easily. Matt looks unconvinced.

“You haven’t spoken a word to me since I came back,” he accuses. “And I know we don’t exactly rub elbows all that often but I can tell when someone’s avoiding me, Nikita.”

He sounds hurt. No, he sounds like he’s itching for a fight. Nikita doesn’t want to give it to him, primarily because she isn’t  _ sure _ what’s going on with her. She feels drawn to him in a way she’s never felt towards anyone, and she knows it isn’t in a way that makes  _ sense— _ it isn’t romantic or sexual, it isn’t familial, it isn’t even platonic. She just needs to be around him, constantly, and the very idea of that repulses her because Nikita doesn’t  _ need, _ not a person and especially not Matthew “Stick Up His Ass” Patrick, Detective and Puzzle-Solving Poster Child Genius Extraordinaire.

But Manny is tossed very effectively into the cage, and Joey follows soon after, and so the conversation has been tabled. For now.

-

Manny smells like candy lip gloss and Nikita hates that she’s never noticed until now.

She clutches his hand as they run back to the lounge, sprinting like if they get there in time they can stop what’s about to happen, and Nikita’s heart is in her throat because she doesn’t know exactly what she’s feeling. Anger, and hurt, and fear, mostly, because it’s  _ Manny _ and even if he isn’t her soulmate he’s her  _ best friend _ and she’d come  _ this close _ to losing him forever, no tricks, no magical harps, no miracles to bring him back to life like they’d done to Matt, and hurt because she hasn’t figured out Matt yet and she didn’t want to die before knowing exactly where they stood with each other, and  _ fear _ because it can be Safiya or it can be Ro and if it’s Ro then Matt would lose his best friend and none of that is fair at all.

But it isn’t Ro, and Nikita still feels sick, and Matt is suddenly raging at all of them, a fury driven by grief that Nikita knows all too well. Manny fights him back, but Nikita just stands there, numbly viewing Safiya’s body. Somewhere out there in the world someone is crying from the phantom pain of a fishing hook to the gut, and the knowledge that their One is gone now. She wonders if they’d known each other, or if Saf hadn’t met them yet? What about Colleen’s One? Teala and Roi’s? Who was JC’s?

There’s only four of them left now, five if you count Joey (Nikita can’t, not if he’s still technically a dead man). A soulmate for each of them now, this night isn’t over, and there’s no guarantee that Nikita won’t lose Matt again.

She stares at him as his pain winds down, and he turns back to Safiya, ignoring the two responsible for her death as they stand there with nothing to do or say. Manny slumps where no one but she can see, and she reaches up to squeeze his hand.

There’s only four of them left, and she’s more confused than ever.

-

Nikita paces. There are twenty-seven steps wall to wall in Fat Man Slim’s. She’s tempted, too, to climb the stairs and start counting those, but decides she needs her energy for whatever is going to happen next.

She’s not even really pacing so much as she is  _ stalking, _ tension coiled in her muscles, so pronounced that Maria scurries out of her way. Nikita doesn’t have the energy to feel bad about it. Cold terror drips from her bones like liquid nitrogen as she debates what’s worse, feeling the pain of Matt’s death if he fails this challenge too or not feeling Manny die and having to be told by the others. They’re both out of her sight and she  _ hates _ that, hates that more than anything, especially since she isn’t sure if she’s supposed to love Matt more because he’s her One or Manny because he’s her best friend and he came first.

It’s different, she decides. No one is less than the other but they are different, even if she can’t exactly pinpoint how just yet. And therefore if either of them die here, out of her sight, she might as well throw in the towel now because there’s not much point of surviving this night without the other.

A noise, from outside Slim’s. Nikita whips that way, seeing Manny in first, and then Joey, and her heart thunders until Matt’s there, and he trips coming into the doorway, on  _ nothing, _ and all of a sudden his voice is a strangled gasp that’s halfway to a scream as he writhes on the floor clutching his chest and his throat.

And Nikita’s there without even thinking as Matt starts to cry, right there on the floor. She pulls him into her arms and rocks him because it  _ feels right, _ and also because she’s been through this too, and she reiterates that what’s the fucking  _ point _ of having a soulmate if you don’t know until they  _ die? _ In no universe is that fair, at all, but more than that she’s realizing that Matt might be  _ her _ soulmate but she isn’t Matt’s, Ro was, but Ro is gone now and Nikita doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. She remembers the stony anger on the little Jetsetter’s face at the knowledge that Matt was not her soulmate, and wonders at the audacity the universe has to take her away before she could be told that she’s his.

When she looks up at Manny she realizes she’s crying too, and he looks stricken, and none of this is fixable.

-

Nikita wonders what she’d done in her past lives that would cause the stars to hate her as much as they do as she sifts through popcorn looking for the tiny key that would win her this challenge and doom Manny,  _ again. _

Because she can’t imagine being so horrible that this is the only suitable punishment, battling her best friend to the death not once, but  _ twice _ in one night. She doesn’t claim to be a saint by any means even in  _ this _ life, but this isn’t  _ fair. _

Manny’s face is set in grim acceptance and she doesn’t know  _ what _ he’s accepting but she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want to accept anything, at all. Whatever the outcome of this challenge, she’s going to  _ fight it, _ and she’s going to win, because she refuses anything else.

She finds her key a second after Manny does, and she flies to the deposit box closest to her. No time to be picky. She just wants this night to be  _ over. _ And she’s gotten better about navigating her nails through the straitjacket, the lock clicks and she tosses the lid so hard the box rattles, and she nearly sobs at the sight of the gun.

_ Kill yourself or kill your friend to claim the ring. _

Everything in her washes cold. Nikita grabs the gun and stands and she aims it towards Lucy—

Who has her own gun pointed at Matt’s head. No one had seen her move until she stood directly behind him. Her gun is bright blue and it sparkles like it’s been dunked in disco glitter. Her eyes are glittering too, that smile too wide and that cackle too loud.

“Nikita?” Matt asks, very still and very nervous, and Joey is wide-eyed and terrified from where he sits only a foot away.

“Whatcha gonna do,  _ Ni-ki-ta?” _ Lucy sing-songs, and she giggles like this is the funniest thing ever. “It’s your choice! It’s your choice! It’s your choice!” Her voice drops low. “Better make the right one.”

And not for the first time, Nikita’s eyes well with tears. She looks back at Manny, holding his hands out in front of him like he can calm the raging storm within her, and back at Matt, whose calm gaze screams  _ faith _ and it isn’t nearly what she deserves.  _ It’s your choice. _ Better make the right one.

She finds herself gazing at Manny again, and he already knows. It makes her sick. “Manny,” she begs. “Manny, I love you. I  _ love _ you. It’s you I love.”

“Oh darling,” he says. Has the nerve to smile at her through his own tears. “I know.”

She empties the gun into his chest, because she’s scared he’ll change his mind, or she will. Lucy cackles, high pitched and feverish, and it turns into a shriek of defiance as Joey snatches the ring from its box and attaches it to the collar. She melts, and so does Nikita, dropping the empty gun like it’s scalding her and sobbing harder than she ever has. But suddenly Matt’s there, and her souls sings to have him near her, and she snarls  _ Shut up! _ even as he gathers her up and shushes her like she did him only an hour ago. His broad shoulders block her view of Manny’s body as she weeps and weeps and just doesn’t  _ stop. _

“It’s not fair,” she manages through her sobs. “It’s not fair.”

She and Joey pull Matt from the mausoleum and he’s shaking all over.  _ Not the biggest fan of small spaces, _ Nikita files away, but she can’t take her hands from his shoulders even as he straightens up and nods that he’s okay when Joey asks, maybe because she can see in his eyes something that had been broken and repaired and just waiting for the next thing to topple it again.

“I thought you guys were gonna leave me,” he confesses when she won’t tear her gaze from his face. “I thought you were gonna let me die.”

Nikita grips his  _ stupid _ mustard colored jacket and hisses,  _ “Never,” _ and it should’ve scared her but it didn’t. Matt just clutches her back and he nods because he believes her, and sometimes that’s enough.

-

Morning is cold. Nikita wasn’t expecting it to be cold, but as the sky lightens she can suddenly see her breath puff before her and it’s more of a reminder than anything that she’d survived that.

She and Matt cross the bridge ahead of Joey—he’d gone back for something and that left the two of them alone for the first time since the cage, and Nikita’s figured it out now, even if she doesn’t really like it.

“You’re my One,” she blurts into the silence, face burning.

And Matt smiles, just a little bit. “I know.”

“What? You  _ knew?” _

“Well yeah,” he says, the ‘duh’ in his voice, “I’m not an idiot.”

“You never said anything!” she accuses, before backtracking a little. “I mean, I know it’s weird, because it’s not  _ like _ that, and I’m not yours and I’m sorry—”

The apology is because he winced, because it was Ro, and she  _ is _ sorry about that in particular. But he shakes his head and puts one hand on top of Nikita’s wig, pats it once, like she’s a child. “It’s okay, honey,” he says, in the way he’s always warm and kind and not at all what she deserves. “Steph is gonna love you.”

And it’s an invitation, and forgiveness, and Nikita is the luckiest person on the planet, she thinks, because she’s the only one who’s found her soulmate and got to keep him too, and he’s willing to keep her.

Somewhere among the stars, she knows Manny approves.


End file.
